


where ocean meets sky

by cinnaspectre, keynesian



Series: infinite recurrence [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, OCD, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Psychological Warfare, Purple Prose, Scars, Slow Burn, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, canon typical animosity, character exposition, characters are toxic stereotypes, contains cliches, head hopping, nonbinary canon, self-fulfilling trash, shifting verb tense, to know that this is gratuitous, trash, whatever cliche warnings you need
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:24:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaspectre/pseuds/cinnaspectre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/keynesian/pseuds/keynesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kylo ren shows up as unexpectedly as a raging squall<br/>hux is determined to be unfazed by the intrusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where ocean meets sky

**Author's Note:**

> we won't explain ourself. 
> 
> that said, please enjoy.

Home life for Kylo Ren wasn't great. If his mother wasn’t nagging him regarding his future, he was warring with his father over _everything_. He'd nearly hit Han tonight and he was pretty sure the only reason that his dad hadn't hit him was because Leia had stopped her husband. Ren had taken off, slamming the front door behind him.

Even putting it kindly, Kylo Ren didn't have many friends. All his childhood friendships had ended with burned bridges. If he could even consider any of them real friendships. It was hard for Ren to relate with others; he tended to be too cynical, harsh, and ‘intimidating.’ Given that (and having nowhere to go), he’d built a small (but quite sturdy) ‘house’ about three miles into the woods near his parent’s home. It was his usual go-to cooldown place, a home _away_ from home. Unfortunately, a family of raccoons had moved into his usual hideout he hadn't the time to extricate the beasts from his small kingdom. It was too late to bother with tonight.

So Ren wandered until his feet tired and a little longer past that. Until he found himself pounding a fist on Hux’s door. He’d checked the registry to make sure that he had the right number (613; HUX ) before ascending the stairs to the other boy’s home.

They weren’t friends. Ren can distinctly remember the debate class that he and Hux had ended up resuming debate _outside_ the class. After that, they sat with one another at lunch. They’d talked a total of maybe five times, and only to exchange sharp words. Ren didn’t have any other close acquaintances, friends, or family members.

Hux’s home life was pretty okay, mostly thanks to the fact that his home consisted of himself, alone, in an apartment. Of course, this is where he spent most of his time, considering the fact that he too was pretty much a social outcast--partly by choice, being so committed to scholarly pursuits, and partly because his intensity tended to seem...standoffish at best. Friendships might have ended badly, but he wouldn't know because they rarely started. Which is why he didn't really understand why Kylo Ren was slouching in his doorstep on this particular, seemingly random evening.

Kylo is more than a little relieved when the door opens, though he attempts to be casual. He's still a little shaken, even after his long walk and he's not exactly sure what to say. He’s _never_ sure what to say to other people. the first words that come out of his mouth are abrasive and acidic. “You look like shit.” There’s a pause as he digs around in the front of his leather jacket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.  “You want to smoke a cigarette with me?" He inquires, seeking a lighter in another pocket.

“Not really. Sounds disgusting.” The clipped tones are accented, perfectly enunciated, calculated in every aspect. It’s a lie. He watches the long fingers pull out a slim cigarette from the deplorably bruised pack.

Ren hands Hux a cigarette, despite the other boy’s dissent. "Don't be a pussy." Hux accepts the cigarette like a fact. It belongs between his fingers.

“What do you want?” It's intended to be blunt but sounds a bit too harsh, even compared to Hux’s usual dismissive manner.

"I missed you." Ren's drawl is dripping with honey and mockingly sweet of tone. He lights his cigarette before offering the device to Hux. Even as the lighter is proffered, Hux haughtily places his cigarette between his lips and looks expectantly at Ren. The other boy glares darkly, irritated by Hux’s infuriating high-handed manner, but he half-laughs. It’s a good move and he finds that the laugh sounds a little nervous.  
  
“Now who's the pussy?” Hux asks in a chilly tone; the word sounding a little foreign coming from the sanctimonious boy’s mouth.The laugh startles Hux and stirs a response, but he bites his own laugh down and swallows with a cloud of smoke as the cigarette is lit. Ren looks Hux in the eye as he does it, rising to the challenge with vigor.  
  
"Fuck you," Ren snaps back sharply--more sharp than he'd intended.

Hux’s chin tips up ever so minutely at the insult, the bitter edge cluing him in to Rens true mood. So that’s what the other boy was doing here. He parts his lips and smoke spirals out, soundless. “So what, you got lonely and decided to come pollute the air on the doorstep of _my_ nonsmoking apartment complex?”

“I don't hear you complaining. _And_ I'm not the one paying for your fancy 'non-smoking' apartment complex, so I don't give a damn about the air quality." He takes a long drag and exhales smoke into the air, as if to prove a point.

“Paying? Neither am I. Smoke here as long as you like.” He inhales one last time, and again with the silent release, before looking Ren in the eye, dropping the barely-smoked cigarette on the concrete step and grinding it beneath his boot heel. For a wild moment, Ren envies that cigarette as Hux's heel digs into it. “Unless you're coming in?' he steps back inside to the ground floor, not bothering to check whether he is followed.

He's holding his breath--Hux took _maybe_ three hits from that cigarette; the fucker. Ren huffs and tamps his own cigarette out on the doorframe before dropping the half-smoked butt to the ground. Following the other inside, Ren shrugs from his jacket and drops it in the front hall without ceremony. "Were you just sitting in the dark? Are you some kind of fuckin' vampire? There are no lights on in here at all."

“You've caught me,” he retorts; “and I prey exclusively on fuckwits who show up on my stoop on Friday evenings.” Hux removes his boots and sets them neatly in a corner before pulling back a sliding door, revealing a tiny study with books (unopened) stacked on a chair. Only one lamp was lit. "As a matter of fact, I’d only just returned from the library.”

Snorting, Kylo didn't resent the insult. He'd walked into it a little, and there was something strangely elegant about the way curse in the way it dropped from Hux’s lips with crisp diction. He shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks his boots off.

Padding into the library, Ren spares a moment of brief awe for the majesty of a room with so many books, before leaning down to look at the books Hux had picked out. "Jesus Christ, you're a nerd. Do you ever read anything for fun? Oh, Gods. This _is_ fun for you." Mock horror.

Hux shrugs, perching on the arm of a chair. “What’s your idea of light reading? Supernatural teen lit, evidently.” He continues the vampire vein. “Mine happens to be--” he glances at the top tome-- “Russian military theory of 1859.” His leg swings up, crosses the other as he glances at Kylo’s face for a reaction.

Dropping into the other armchair and slinging his leg over the arm, Ren let his head drop back and hung limply for a moment, gazing upside down at Hux. "I like books about theology," he replied, his response more thoughtful and considered than his usual dismissive deflections. "Military theory is good and all," Ren waved a hand dismissively "But I get bored." He paused for a moment, then seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say next as he studied Hux's upside-down visage.

Hux nodded slowly, appraising the other with an analytical gaze. Wonders what comment the other boy has bitten back at the last second. Theology....was perhaps one of the last things that he would have pegged Kylo Ren for. He picked a thread off of his sleeve, remaining still and upright on the chair's arm, contemplating. It actually made sense. Someone so determined to be a fervent nonbeliever... Hux prickles at the boy’s implication that military theory isn’t worth study and time. “Good and all? Let me know what you think when World War III rolls around.” It’s tentative; it can be taken as a joke or a jab. This is all very new. Few people have passed Hux’s threshold, let alone flung themselves into his armchair.

A half laugh. “I'm sure that when the time rolls around, you'll do enough gloating about being right to ensure my repentance.” He picked up one of the books and casually thumbed through it, pausing here and there to peek at diagrams. Ren doesn't bother to consider if Hux wants him there. He's never even been there before, but Hux let him in. He’s no intention to leave any time soon. He _loves_ books and his parents moved him around so much, he'd never had a library of his own. He's containing his delight and reverence well, but he'd be disappointed indeed if Hux abruptly decided he was unwelcome.

“'Gloating? There will be no need to gloat when I am in command and ordering you around.” There’s a more definite undertone of mirth this time. Hux moves the stack of books from the chair to the side table, and slides down onto the now-vacant cushion.

Biting down on his lip, Ren flushed a little and his upper lip curled. “As if I'd kowtow to _you,_ ”' the dark boy said, snide but for the way his eyes lingered consideringly on Hux's eyes for a moment. He does his best to focus on the book he’d chosen, thumbing through it and decidedly not looking at Hux.

His reply is simple. Clean-cut. “You would.” Hux knows he was born to direct, to rise (his father won't let him forget it). There is no malice in the response, just a statement of fact. He pretends to consider selecting a book, instead slipping his gaze slightly upward, watching Ren read. He isn't necessarily averse to such a guest. Always observational, he takes everything in, allowing the silence to grow, not uncomfortably.

Ren forces himself not to make an angry reply to Hux, knowing that it won’t solve this particular issue. Eventually, he puts the book down and glances at Hux irately, a look that says ‘stop fucking looking at me.’ Distinctly aware of Hux's gaze, Ren languidly pushes himself from the chair to slink over to one of the floor to ceiling shelves. The array of texts was impressive for a personal collection. He wondered how many of them belonged to Hux and how many to his parents. He wondered where Hux's parents were.

Ren pulled several books that interested him from their shelves before returning to drop heavily back into the chair. Hux’s eyes follow Ren to the wall and back, missing nothing, taking in every title that his hand twitches over and then rejects, every volume that he does grant his approval. He watches the long fingers trail over names. He wonders how those authors would feel. He wonders how he would feel. Kylo Ren is a curious man.

"Your hair is out of place." Ren noted, eyes lingering on a lock of hair that had swept free as he resettles himself. It was strange to see even such a small thing out of place on the other that the words had left his lips before he’d thought about them properly.

Hux’s almost-trance of watching Ren is brought back by the flippant remark, so easily rolling from Kylo’s tongue. He notes too the tiny widening of Ren’s eyes, as though it had come unbidden. How interesting that Ren has memorized this detail about him. That they know so much about each other, yet have so rarely interacted--until now. Hux’s hand automatically snaps up to his forehead, sweeping golden bangs back into place. He cannot stop the faint flush that follows, nor the hard set of his jaw as he bites the inside of his cheek. That phrase has come too many times from his father. Disapproving. He says nothing. Each of them have betrayed themselves already.

Ren knows that he’s overstepped, and he can almost feel that he's struck a nerve. Kylo regrets the words, but at the same time, he feels a rush of sick pleasure. Serves Hux right, even so. Ren was no pawn to be played with and he couldn't help reminding people that by biting occasionally. Rather than put his foot further down his throat, Ren opens another book, this time a treatise on celtic mythology. An interesting and unexpected find--he'd not expected anything other than strictly military historical works, scholarly or not. It seems, however, that the library was stocked with not only obscure military tomes, but an array of classic literature from all over the world, including well worn selections that Kylo could identify easily as someone's favorites. He had a strong suspicion that he might even know who.

Hux’s eyes dart away, anywhere but Ren. He picks up a volume and racks it open. An internal diagram greets him, ribcage gaping. No-- _Gray’s Anatomy_ won’t do. He is already too aware of two bodies in this study. He furtively shuts it and slides another library book off the table without checking the title. rare venomous plants. better.

But the ribcage remains in his mind as the silence makes something claw its way out of his own. he cannot help but steal another look at Kylo Ren, sitting comfortably in his armchair. it is just so bizarre, to have him of all people, here, browsing his collection. a library is a strangely intimate thing. every volume in it was selected by Hux himself--some purchased, some gifted, some stolen from his father's study, some purposefully 'lost' and paid for at the library. the range was wide, and formed no bigger picture. Hux was fine with that. he himself preferred remaining that way to most.

Thumbing through the pages, Ren gives pause at a tale of the _Sidhe_ ; ephemeral fae, only to move along quickly, finding that the only thing he sees when he thinks of perfection is Hux's austere gaze, the gold-shot red of his hair, the symmetry of his cheekbones. Ren snorts, absolutely disgusted with himself, actively seeking something to disparage to shut down that thought train. "I'll bet you've got at least five pets that take more care than a human child." He remarked, eyes flicking to the book. "Or plants.”

“At least flora doesn't make the noise and mess a human child would!”  
  
Ren offered Hux a sly grin, gets up and wanders towards the door and out into the hallway. There will be more time to thoroughly examine Hux's book collection later. It was time to ruffle the other's feathers a bit.

Hux is on his feet in an instant, shadowing Ren as closely as possible, since he _insists_ on invading Hux's apartment. He curls his nails into his palm, digging, the only show of nerves from an otherwise upright military posture as he steps alongside Ren. Hux tries to view his apartment through an outsider's eyes: tidy, almost sterile. Minimal. Everything is clearly for one. His father’s study is the epitome of luxury, but _that_ door is closed right now. 

Though his family ( _his father,_ he thinks bitterly) has money, Hux prefers to spend as little of it as possible; with exceptions for new additions to the library. He wonders briefly if he should feel embarrassed by any of it, but he can only feel anxiety rising in his throat. Not because there's a stranger invading his home, judging him--but because Kylo Ren does not feel like a stranger here. Hux _definitely_ does not like the direction that feeling is going.

The apartment is so goddamned pristine that Ren is for a moment overcome with the need to move something out of place, to create disorder in this orderly and immaculate environment. He quashes the need, acutely aware of Hux's steps, mirroring his own as he nearly clung to Ren. Mapping the space in his mind, Kylo beelined for where he estimated Hux's bedroom must be.

“What do you need?” It is a thinly veiled attempt at berating Ren for overstepping his boundaries. there are some things here Hux would rather keep private, but mostly, he is uneasy awaiting the judgement surely to be passed.

The living space is of little interest to him in this instance, and Hux's worried query confirmed that he was heading in the correct direction. Kylo isn't seeking to pass judgement, he is an observer, chaotic neutral in his passage. Curious more about what makes this strange other being tick. What has possessed this meticulous boy with every single thing having a place in his life to allow Kylo Ren to enter his apartment of his own volition, and subsequently put a hand on (what Kylo had deduced) must be Hux's bedroom doorknob?

Honestly, he should have known this was coming. God. Fucking. Damnit. Hux considers whipping into the space between Kylo and his bedroom door, confronting him, but that would be a concession, and he has quickly inferred that their little game of one-uppance is glaringly integral to the emerging dynamic between them. So instead, he catches Ren's eye and raises a brow. daring him, questioning him, however he'd like to take it--Hux knows he can’t stop Ren at this point. He's invited the beast into his home. He must prepare for the destruction it will bring.

Kylo catches the rise of Hux's eyebrow and feels the tension sing in his blood. he flashed a crooked smile at the other, a smile that he _knew_ made people want to hit him (he was pretty sure his dad trademarked it for triumphant cons), as he twisted the handle without a second thought. He'd made his decision the moment he left the library.

A quick tally of what Kylo Ren will see is done in Hux’s mind: the sparse pattern on his beaten grey bedsheets. The single, lifeless pillow, limp from years of use. The war propaganda and maps of varying ages tacked to his wall, pins and strings dashing between them. The desk, piled with books (and more stacked under the loft bed, whose entire floor space is devoted to the overflow of books). Notebooks arranged on the hutch shelf, filled with his own diagrams and neat, spidery handwriting. Backpack hanging off the chair. The various homeless keys, long, short, copper, brass, silver--whiled away in a drawer for future scrutiny. The multitudinous array of luminescent, green, undeniably tacky glow-in-the dark stars on his ceiling, arranged in real, intricate constellations. His _plants_. It is not the bedroom of a rich, upright young man, save the cost of the historical memorabilia. It's the bedroom of a young boy whose mind never rests.

It is certainly not a bedroom for sleeping.

He does not know how he feels about Kylo seeing this. seeing him. The rest of his apartment is sparingly and tastefully furnished, but his small bedroom is brimming with character, even strictly organized as ever. It would be less revealing to just strip there in the hallway, frankly. This thought forces him to rip his eyes away from Kylo's.

“Don’t touch any plants,” is all he says. “You could die.”

 


End file.
